


Echo

by RivanWarrioress



Series: The Arya Conversations [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya Stark mention, F/M, How Arya could have been mentioned, Missing Scene, Sansa Stark Mention, Short One Shot, Stand Alone, Stark Family History, Viserys Targaryen Mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14066271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RivanWarrioress/pseuds/RivanWarrioress
Summary: Jon and Daenerys discuss those who came before.





	Echo

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Million And One Ways Arya Could (Should) Have Been Mentioned](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11846619) by [SecondFromTheRight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight). 



> I own nothing

Jon Snow leaned against the stone railing that bordered the steps leading up to the fortifications of Dragonstone, watching as the two surviving Dragons soared over the oceans, remembering the tales Old Nan used to tell him and Robb when they were young about the Targaryens and their dragons, and then later, Maester Luwin teaching the boys the history of Westeros, and the Targaryens who had conquered it and ruled over the unified country for centuries.

 

A slight crunching of footsteps on gravel alerted Jon to the presence of another, and Jon turned, surprised to see Daenerys standing there, looking at the Dragons.  Her surviving children, Jon thought with a cringe, and he bowed his head politely towards the Queen.

 

“Your Grace,” he greeted.

 

Daenerys said nothing in response, instead glancing over towards Jon, before she silently and gracefully stepped towards him.

 

“They’re missing their brother,” she told him after a lengthy pause, “I…it has been a long time since I’ve thought that I might lose one of them.  When they were small and vulnerable I feared for them, but…” she faded off, gazing up at her dragons, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

 

“I think we both know the pain of losing a brother,” Jon offered, “now they know this pain too, I wish that they never had.”

 

“I named him after my brother Viserys,” Daenerys offered, “As much as he was cruel towards me, he was still my brother, and I wanted a way to remember him.

 

“I…I wish there was a way for me to remember my brothers,” Jon admitted, thinking of Robb and Rickon. 

 

Daenerys nodded supportively, watching as Rhaegal flew overhead.  Jon’s gaze tracked the green and bronze dragon, the green of the dragon’s scales reminding Jon of the Godswood at Winterfell.

 

“What about Rhaegar,” he asked Daenerys curiously, although after he sponke he cringed, realsing that now might not be the best time to bring up another of Daenerys’ dead relations.

 

“I never met him,” Daenerys replied, “although I have heard some things about him, what sort of man he was.”

 

“What were you told?”

 

“Viserys always used to say that Rhaegar was good at killing people, that was all I ever knew about Rhaegar…until Ser Barristan Selmy told me more.  Rhaegar liked to go out of the Red Keep and walk amongst the people of Kings landing.  He used to sing to them…just like the other minstrels,” Daenerys smiled at the thought, “Ser Barristan told me that Rhaegar never liked killing…but he loved singing.  He was good at it too, the people used to give him money.”

 

“What did he do with it?” Jon questioned, genuinely interested.

 

“Gave it to the other minstrels, sometimes,” Daenerys shrugged, “other times he gave it to the orphanages in Fleabottom, on a couple of occasions Rhaegar and Ser Barristan indulged in drink.”

 

Jon chuckled, “He sounds like an interesting character.”

 

“He was, I wish I could have met him and known him like I knew Viserys.”

 

Jon was silent, thinking about the picture Daenerys had painted of her brother, the same man who had allegedly kidnapped and raped Jon’s Aunt, Lyanna.  He missed the sideways look Daenerys sent him, as if she had remembered how Robert’s Rebellion had started, and how the Stark family had been torn apart.

 

“I…I’m sorry…for what my family has done to yours.  I know the damage has been done, but I regret what my family did.  From all accounts your father was an honorable man.”

 

“He was,” Jon nodded, his voice cracking slightly at the memory of his father, “he never talked much about the Rebellion though, only that it was horrible.  He rarely spoke at all about those he lost…his father, his brother Brandon, and his sister Lyanna.”

 

“What did he say about them?”

 

“Brandon Stark had the wolf’s blood…it made him wild…almost the exact opposite of my father…that’s what Old Nan used to tell us when we were children.  When we were older some of the older men at Winterfell told us stories about Brandon’s, er…exploits, in the bedroom” Jon blushed, having not intended on revealing that particular piece of gossip.

 

Daenerys smiled and concealed her giggle, but said nothing, so Jon continued on, “he was a passionate man, protective of his family.  When…when word broke about what happened to Lyanna, he didn’t hesitate before accompanying his father south.  Before he died he was engaged to Lady Catelyn.”

 

“What about your Aunt?”

 

“My Aunt?’ Jon repeated, before he shook his head, “Father barely ever mentioned her.  I’ve visited her crypt, numerous times, with Robb and our father.  Robb once asked him about her, and father replied that Arya was her echo…alike Lyanna in both looks and personality.  I think that was why father couldn’t ever say no to Arya.  Lady Catelyn was really the only one who ever did, or Sansa of course.  Arya just had to look at father and he’d let her do what she wanted, within reason, of course,” Jon couldn’t help but smile at some of the antics Arya had gotten up to before they had all been split apart. 

 

“It sounds as if you are fond of her,” Daenerys commented.

 

“I am,” Jon replied, “other than Robb she was the one of my family who I was the closest to.  She was the only one who didn’t treat me any differently because I was a bastard.  She was like that with everyone.  She could make friends with anyone…bastards, stable boys, Blacksmiths, anybody, regardless of if they were highborn, or lowborn.  She never cared, she treated them all the same, as people.” Jon couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice at his little sister.

 

“A day doen’t go by without me missing her.  I wonder how the years of changed her…how she’s grown…how she’s survived everything.  Nobody knew anything about her survival, not even Varys, and yet she turns up at the gates of Winterfell one day.  I can only hope that she and Sansa aren’t fighting.  They were often fighting when they were younger.”

 

“Once we have convinced Cersei of the truth about what lies beyond the wall, we will go to the North…and you will see them both, and your brother, again.” Daenerys promised, “I would very much like to meet your family, as you have met mine, and I hope that they take as well to me as Drogon has to you.

 

Jon laughed, “You’re talking about my sisters…one of whom left Ramsay Bolton to be eaten by his own dogs, and the other took great delight in stuffing sheep shit in her sister’s mattress to make her room smell bad.  I think I might have had the easier job endearing myself to your dragons.

 

Daenerys gave Jon a look of alarm that made Jon’s laughter continue, and he was still smiling and chuckling slightly when they both returned to the keep together, ten minutes later.


End file.
